'I think of nothing but love. The continual amusement I derive from intellectual pursuits, for which I am always being reproached as if it were a crime, finds its very justification in this singular and unceasing taste for love. For me there is no idea that is not eclipsed by love.If it were up to me, everything opposed to love would be abolished. That is roughly what I mean when I claim to be an anarchist.'- Louis Aragon (1924)

Sunday, March 25, 2007

The Silk Road and Genghis Khan.

Crooning on my STEREO:Bellezza by MARLENE KUNTZ

While I was penning my 4th feature script, my brainstorming sessions revealed a serious defect in plot setting. There was a marvellous storyline, coupled with extraordinary characters and kickass sketch edits, but I sensed a certain void in empathising with the story's surroundings.

Hence I never completed that particular screenplay. And hence I never received my Oscar.

Like any other wannabe, I was ambitious. I chose to narrate my emo- fiction along the very long Silk Road and its surroundings. If you have absolutely no idea what this legendary route entails, have a good look at the map below:-

I know, it will take me decades to walk it. And probably a century to write a book on it.

Silk Road is an unexploited region that intrigues me. When self proclaimed travellers tell me that they've seen the world after flocking to Western Europe, I am then reminded of a certain inbred stupidity that resides in yuppies nowadays. Before I puke, I will stop bitching for now.

Central Asia is an entirely different world. Trust me.

The inhabitants of these regions are generally better looking. And since my boyfriend dated one of them, I have developed a compulsive complex aka. perception that everybody there is ultra-hot and attractive.

You begin your journey in Vietnam. Then you enter CHINA. My great motherland. Great Gran Daddy apparently had a castle and a pretty jet there until they were snatched away by the communists. Such idiots, I know. We even went searching for it when we went to Beijing last year.

Beijing does not do China justice. The Great Wall does. And the picture below also does.

I guess you would then have to venture beyond the Great Wall to see Greater China. Rent a camel that would take you cross-country. And do it like Che Guevara alla. Motorcycle Diaries.

Our trans-asian adventure should be dubbed: The Camel Diaries.

Along the way, one should pay homage to the great and mighty GENGHIS KHAN. The warrior dude who came and conquered. The hero who invaded extensive amount of lands with the same ease as Pac-Man. With this in mind, MONGOLIA is another must-see. (Although it might be easier to detour with the Trans-Siberian route. I will explain that in a separate post.)

My dad used to bull me with a story that we are the descendants of some barbaric tribe of Inner Mongolia. Probably explains why I have inherited such ape-hair genes.

So you keep riding on your camel until you reach Uzbekistan. If you are naively hoping for some sort of Borat adventure, then you can drop by in Kazakhstan. If you are penniless at this point and your camel has passed out, then I suggest that you halt your journey before you reach the borders of Afghanistan.

Recently I dug up remnants of my abandoned script. I thought to myself that if I am to complete this masterpiece once and for all, a lifetime journey to all the said places MUST be made within the next 3 years.

12 comments:

Anonymous
said...

If you can dream and not make dreams your master;If you can think and not make thoughts your aim,If you can meet with Triumph and DisasterAnd treat those two impostors just the same:If you can bear to hear the truth you've spokenTwisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;If you can make one heap of all your winningsAnd risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,And lose, and start again at your beginnings,And never breathe a word about your loss:If you can force your heart and nerve and sinewTo serve your turn long after they are gone,And so hold on when there is nothing in youExcept the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

hey senorita, packed with good intentions thus i will say to you... pretty and black like a human is your hair! if its just another satire to thou purpose it conceived a methaporic thrust right to the eye of the sniper and to others of millions. its a mockery of a prejudice dress in the same race. pls think about it and whats necessary... "words dont come easy its a forever hurt"

here again, your only lone anonymous and the other; another mistake for im sicko and not, for there is a real sicko that i thought then is schizo, nevertheless for i believe a good purpose is like an echo... i trust your deep consolation for a pool of words or verbal pocket play you can wear around your sleeve understand my composition of beg... in anyway its not about any racial issues. t.y take care

if im right sicko means sic6sense. my faith is my strongfold to pour down in the chasm of your understanding and thats to say my deepest sorry in anyway id commit an indescrition upon your name, perhaps u can tell. im with you for also i, feel, and also i posses the same six sense, and in such may the words act in verbosity if that in exchange to pursuit in this imaginary line to an empty space of freedom, words w/out a doubt i write with my love; for love is to spread... across to anything that feels it.ps. lyn

that story your dad used to bull you with? "...that we are the descendants of some barbaric tribe of Inner Mongolia." That has something to do with the Siew/Seow surname right? coz i think i've heard about that before...